Emma wanted to camp where they were but the others outvoted her, so on they rode.
From then on the journey was an unpleasant one.

The shins of the riders were barked from contact with trees.

Low-hanging limbs of small second-growth trees slapped their faces and deluged the riders with water, and altogether they were experiencing about the most unpleasant ride that they had ever taken, except possibly that across the Great American Desert earlier in their vacation riding.
Grace, perhaps, was the only exception, in that she found herself enjoying the unusual experience and the excitement of it, for the stumbles of the ponies were frequent; here and there a tree was heard to fall crashing to earth, and, high and piercing on the soggy night air, they occasionally heard the mournful howl of a wolf.
"There goes seven dollars and a half," Emma would wail every time a wolf howled.
Willy Horse finally shouted and indicated by a gesture, which was revealed to the riders in the rear by Hippy's lamp, that he was about to change his course.

The Indian turned sharply to the right, proceeded in a direct line for half a mile, as nearly as the Riders could judge, then threw his arm straight up into the air.
"Be we there ?" yelled the forest woman.
"We be.

That is, we're here, but whether here is there or somewhere else you will have to search the Indian for the answer.